Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Angel of Death, artist - Swollen Members. Album song Brand New Day, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 16.06.2014
Record label: Battle Axe
Song language: English
Angel of Death |
| Nothing can hurt us now |
| What we have can’t be destroyed |
| That’s our victory, our victory over the dark |
| Been bombin' before, Andromeda’s core |
| Islamic’s at war, blood red on the floor |
| I’m in my own lane, ten game hitter |
| Friends get bitter, someone that they won’t get rid of |
| We had the dopest litter, bunch of Bowe, Riddicks |
| Rappers with pro fitteds, we had no critics |
| I fuckin' flow with it, my soul is so acidic |
| A style that you won’t mimic cause this is no gimmick |
| I’m fuckin' Madchild, bastard, I’m my own man |
| Now I’m a grown man followin' a program |
| I’m tryin' to get myself security like Homeland |
| Health, wealth, family, and definitely romance |
| Colder than a snowman |
| We are 'bout to blow, man |
| Steady like a slow jam |
| Heavy like a cro-mag |
| Verifying that I’m terrifying with every entry |
| Rapper of the month? |
| We are rappers of the century |
| Your shit is elementary |
| Time we hit the gates we’ll be rappers of the century |
| Petty loads of chemicals brother |
| I’m a black shark in dark water |
| Crashin' through your boat and your rudder |
| They won’t discover you motherfucker, you’re lost as sea |
| Twenty tentacles wrap around you like the roots of a tree |
| From the incubator straight to incinerator |
| Open up the steel gates, a modern day liberator |
| Grey matter data ate a rapper for lunchtime |
| I want my revenge like I came from a mummy’s mind |
| I ain’t scare of no ambulance, magic spells and sunshine |
| Energy points, portals, ports, and landlines |
| Great minds alike think, strike down the weaklings |
| Light tower, watchtower, watch how the beacon blink |
| Deeper drink down potion, poison earth, ocean water |
| Barbara is so filled with 'plistic, mask of Phantom of the Opera |
| Watch out for chandeliers crashin' through the floor, Joyce |
| Poor choice of words, never hear my voice say those |
| Yeah, you underneath the heavy waves, color of colbalt |
| Salt stick float box, tempature so cold |
| Big drops of freezin' rain, born to reign upon this plane |
| You call it reality, I call it a pawn in game |
| Kill the king, capture flag, drag the bag to vulture valley |
| If that’s just to far to drive, leave it in the back of alleys |
| Steal the ring, capture flag, drag the bones to harbor’s bend |
| If that shit to far to swim then leave em in the garbage bin |